


welcome home, theseus

by kiritila



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, They ARE brothers, among drip, i dont know how to tag this, mentions of past manipulation and abuse so like just be wary of that, sleepy bois inc - Freeform, so is phil lmao, tommy is in his trauma arc, tubbo and wilbur are mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28194450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiritila/pseuds/kiritila
Summary: techno helps tommy to heal. except he doesnt really know what hes doing, but hes trying his best.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 575





	welcome home, theseus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shonatas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shonatas/gifts).



Techno finds that the company of the snow and the silence is all he really needs. In choosing this life for himself, he’s discovered a new kind of simplicity and peace that gives him fulfilment in completing even the smallest of tasks.

Every morning, he awakens to voices in his head, a choir that demands blood and vengeance. Techno ignores them. He opts for routine now, instead of war and anarchism. He eats breakfast, lunch and dinner, he tends to his pets, he builds up chests of resources and he enjoys his self-made tranquility.

The voices are loud. They try to win over him sometimes, but never do. Even with the anger and hatred of a thousand gods egging him on, Technoblade never gives in to peer pressure.

Except when he does. 

Techno sighs at the resurfacing of that memory, busying himself by running a hand through his hair. He wishes he could forget the pain in Tommy’s eyes on that day, the agony etched into Tubbo’s face and the sheer delight from the crude imposter that called himself his younger brother.

He’d caused all that, and there was no way of fixing it. Tommy wouldn’t even look Techno in the eye anymore. He hates to admit that deep down, the notion hurts, but he guesses he can’t blame his little brother for holding such a strong grudge for what he did.

Techno just wishes for the simplicity of the old days back.

Pulling a thick cloak from the coat hanger on the door, Techno is about to leave to run errands. This mundane existence is something he never would’ve thought he’d found himself tolerating, let alone thoroughly enjoying. 

Then, there’s a muffled crash. Techno pauses, ear twitching and reflexes kicking into gear. There’s a small, quiet “fuck”, and some more clattering, before the sound finally settles into the old, twisted wood of the cabin.

He isn’t dumb. Even with such a minimal amount of noise, Techno can easily locate the source. Pickaxe in hand, he descends a ladder to the first floor of his cottage to begin hacking away at the cold stone floor.

Techno uncovers a hole. A room. He drops down, pickaxe poised and ready to attack.

The pick drops to his side when he sees Tommy, weakly hunched over a chest and looking like he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards.

His little brother turns his head towards the noise, dull eyes widening in fear when he sees Techno stood there with an all-too familiar, unimpressed look. Scrambling to his feet, Tommy stutters to try and explain himself, intimidation shining clear on his pale, dirtied face.

“I-I’m sorry, I r-really am, it’s just… just that… just… I… what the hell are you d-doing in my house, bitch?!”

Techno stands there for a moment, dumbfounded. As Tommy begins to hurl more insults in his hoarse voice, all Techno can think is, _who the hell hurt my little brother?_

Tommy has always been thin, but especially now, with no muscle on his bones and no heavy armour or uniforms weighing him down, it’s so painfully apparent that he hasn't been eating properly. From what is exposed, there are bruises, cuts, even open wounds littering his body - some poorly wrapped in dirtied bandages, others weeping, crying for some sort of medical attention. Tears and rips take up more of Tommy’s clothes than what’s actually covering him, and Techno notices his missing sneakers - one foot even missing a stained, muddied sock. His hair is greasy and matted, and Techno swears he sees faint shocks of grey down at the roots, buried under so, so much grime. His hollow eyes are sunken too, and accompanied by dark bags, and there's a mark on his cheek that would look eerily familiar to anyone who had ever engaged in a fight.

He wants to take his little brother in his arms, and ask him, _who hurt you?_ Because despite their differences, Techno would spill the blood of millions before he let Tommy, or any of his family, get hurt.

But alas, Techno’s never been one for empathy.

“What the hell do you mean, get outta my house?! This is _my_ house, Tommy, _you_ get out!” He points at the younger accusingly, using the pickaxe as a kind of threatening finger. Tommy immediately shrinks back, his breathing growing unstable and heavy.

“Tech, I… I-I said I’m sorry, please… I… you can have it all b-back, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just let me keep the compass, please… a-and the pictures, they’re all I’ve got left… I’m… s-sorry…” Tommy begins to dig around in his chest with shaky hands and ragged breaths, mumbling repeated apologies. He unearths golden apples and dirtied armour, pushing the items towards Techno’s feet with a whimper before he returns to his defensive position - a compass clutched tightly to his chest.

Something shifts deep inside him. Tommy, for how much he hates his brother, has never, not once, cowered in his presence.

The voices demand blood for whoever dared hurt him. Techno feels obliged to agree with them, just this once.

“Are… are those mine?” He asks tentatively, quietly, waiting to see if Tommy will unfurl himself.

Slowly, the boy nods, his breaths still quick and uneven.

“Toms, I’m not gonna hurt ya. The hell’s gotten into ya?” Stepping over the pile, Techno kneels down next to Tommy, resting an awkward hand on his shoulder. 

“Look, just keep the things, I don’t care. We can get more. I’m more worried about ya lookin’ like you’re gonna drop dead. C’mon, let’s get ya cleaned up.” 

With tears threatening to spill, Tommy stares him down for a moment, before launching himself into his older brother’s chest. Techno nearly falls, but manages to keep his balance, the voices only demanding for more and more blood as Tommy weeps into his shirt.

“Dream s-said you’d hurt me… I was so scared… everything hurts a-and I’m cold, Tech… are you sure I can keep the compass…?” It’s incoherent, a bunch of thoughts weakly strung together, but it’s _Tommy_ , and it makes Techno smile, even just a bit.

“Sure, kid. It’s yours.”

With bleary eyes, Tommy smiles up at Techno.

“I don’t want your pity shit, by the way. Just say the word and I’ll be out when you want.” With assistance, Tommy is led to sit in front of a roaring fire in the main house, Techno’s cape draped around his shoulders and the compass in his lap. He doesn’t reply, simply chuckling and shaking his head.

“Anyway… can I ask ya what the hell you’re doin’ underneath my house?”

“Our house, now.” Tommy corrects him with a familiar, smug smile.

“ _My house_ , nerd. So, what were ya doing? And why the hell were you bein’ so weird when I found ya?” Techno seats himself next to his brother, handing him a bowl of steaming soup and a hunk of bread. Tommy almost snatches at the food, beginning to devour it immediately.

Techno raises an eyebrow as he watches Tommy eat, his question being left unanswered.

“... So? You gonna answer me?” The teen, mouth stuffed with bread, turns to face Techno. He swallows his food, squirming uncomfortably.

“It’s all still kind of a blur… my head’s all fucked and shit. I don’t… Tech, I don’t really want to talk about it.” Tommy glances at the compass despondently, before turning back to his meal with a grim expression.

“Okay, well, what d’ya remember? Ghostbur mentioned somethin’ about a beach party, and Dream… what happened, Toms?”

It was then that Techno sees something snap in Tommy. The boy stands up sharply, the compass held to his heart and the soup left forgotten on the table. Tommy looks angry, frustrated even.

“Hey, watch it, you’re gonna end up crushin’ that.” Techno laughs nervously, pointing to the compass. Tommy doesn’t seem to hear.

Techno has never been great with emotion, and feelings. He guesses that now would be an amazing time to start; he just doesn’t know if he’s capable of being the shoulder that Tommy clearly needs to rest on.

“I _said_ , I don’t wanna talk about it. I can’t, it’s literally just a fuckin’ blur. Ohh, Dream’s gonna be so mad when he finds me here, I can’t do this…” Techno watches as Tommy takes to nervously pacing around the room, running a hand through his greasy hair as his eyes never leave the heavy spruce door.

“No, it’ll be fine, he’s my friend… my only friend, actually, he’s my friend, my friend… Dream… I messed up, I messed up bad, I need to go back…” Tommy turns to face Techno with pleading eyes, trembling hands gripping the compass. “I don’t want to go back, though, I want to stay here, but… Dream--”

“Then stay here. I’m not gonna let him hurt ya. And if ya wanna see him, ya can.” Though the voices are telling Techno that Tommy has to stay hidden from Dream.

Tommy stays silent for a moment, deep in thought.

“I… I think I’ll stay. Just please make sure he doesn’t hurt me when he finds me.”

“I promise.” Techno finalises, pushing himself up. As he walks past Tommy to begin digging through a chest for medical supplies, he pats the boy’s shoulder awkwardly, hoping the action was enough to supply support that he didn’t know how to word.

“Now c’mon, let’s get ya cleaned up.”

Later, after Tommy is bathed, supplied with new bandages and clothes and passed out completely in his tiny basement, Techno finds himself scouring through his scarce collection of books. He knows that, no matter how much Tommy refuses to admit it, or tell the full story, that something has gone wrong, and Techno has no clue how he’s going to help his little brother deal with that pain.

Of course, that’s reliant on the possibility that Tommy will even accept help. But Techno can be ambitious. He doesn’t back down from challenges.

He doesn’t find anything in his books that is remotely linked to their current circumstances. With a grunt of frustration, Techno himself turns in, falling into a dreamless sleep as the cold of the outside world begins to settle in his bones.

The next few days aren’t too eventful. Techno wants to know more, but Tommy doesn’t want to remember, leading them into a weird state of being comfortable in each other’s presence, but questions and answers being left unspoken on the ends of their tongues. He learns what Tommy can and can’t do.

Tommy doesn’t like the plains. He doesn’t like Tubbo being mentioned. He especially doesn’t like Dream being mentioned. He flinches at small movements and loud noises, and doesn’t like when Techno points weapons at him even in a non-threatening way. He chugs golden apples out of fear of surprise attacks, and never surrenders his armour. If Techno asks for something, Tommy will give it up immediately, fear shining in his eyes.

Techno learns to let Tommy keep hold of his possessions. He learns what to talk about, what not to talk about, safe places to go and whatnot.

He’s slowly learning.

Tommy is shown the room, the room that will lead them to victory. He yells. Techno delivers the line - “welcome home, Theseus” - and he thinks that there’s a chance that things will finally be okay.

The voices chant victoriously. Tommy has his pep back.

The feeling is short-lived.

Next, Techno helps Tommy strengthen his sword. He shows him the proper, safest procedures for gathering netherite, and his brother listens, unusually submissive and attentive. The questions begin to brew once more, but Techno remains silent.

He sees the way that Tommy stares into the lava, creeping uncomfortably close to the edge before he catches sight of the compass glimmering in the light and backs away. Once again, Techno remains silent, and these awkward moments slowly become few and far between.

Tommy is growing more comfortable, he realises. Techno doesn’t understand why he wasn’t before - after all, they’re brothers - but he can make assumptions. He’s back to being blunt, and every laugh the boy lets out is louder and more explosive than the last. There’s still the fear of Dream lingering in the air, reflected in how Tommy flinches if Techno so much as lifts a hand to brush his hair out of his face or whispers about missing the man.

He’s told him before - healing doesn’t come quick. But as Tommy is learning to cope, Techno is re-learning how to be a big brother, and he’s struggling. He wants to be there for Tommy, though, so learns how to reassure himself that he is enough and that whatever is doing is helping his little brother get better.

The doubt comes creeping in again when Techno makes his first big mistake. The voices scream at him, tell him to leave the bunker labeled as the “Final Control Room”, that Tommy isn’t ready - but Techno doesn’t listen.

It’s in this moment he realises he has no comprehension of what Tommy’s really been through while he’s been absent.

Techno takes Tommy to the room where he’d met with Dream. He has no malicious intent, but he sees the way Tommy’s face blanches when he catches sight of the button in the centre, and the empty chests around the edge.

Tommy.

Tubbo.

Fundy.

Wilbur.

Eret.

Techno sees the way Tommy lurches he looks around the room, his breathing becoming rapid and ragged. He could almost see the blood that had been spilled in his brother’s eyes.

Tommy runs, stuttering about how he’s not ready to relive what he saw in that room. Techno follows, telling him to calm down, that he’s safe, but it’s worthless.

Tommy collapses, crying, barely breathing, proclaiming that he’s dying. Techno knows he’s not. He sits with him, speaks empty words, until Tommy is hiccuping and sniffling.

He surrenders himself to Techno’s warm arms, letting his older brother take him in and carry him home.

Techno runs a hand through Tommy’s head as he sleeps. He realises, in that moment, that he shouldn’t ask questions. Tommy will answer them on his own in due time. 

For now, he has to be a shoulder for him to cry on, even if he doubts he’s good enough to do that.

Over the course of the next few days, the pair settle back into their domestic life. They tame dogs, they build towers, and Tommy gets his pep back. Slowly, his fear of Dream fades, but it doesn’t stop the boy from clinging to Techno like his life depends on it.

“Tech, have you really gotta leave?” Tommy pouts, one of their dogs pawing curiously at his feet.

“Sorry, yeah. You can come, if ya want. I’m only going to give Phil some things. I won’t be long.” Techno pulls his cape around him, preparing to open the door and be hit by a harsh winter wind.

“It looks cold.” Tommy remarks, bending down to pet the dog, “I’ll sit this one out. Just promise you’ll come back?”

“Promise. I’m not gonna be long, anyway. I’ll be back before sundown.” Techno smiles as Tommy barrels into him, giving him a quick hug before embarrassedly retreating.

“Be safe.”

“I’m always safe.” With that, Techno leaves, an unfamiliar warmth burning in his chest as he hops through the portal.

Tommy hasn’t been alone in a long time. He hopes Techno comes back soon, because the familiar coldness that had embedded itself into his bones during his time in Logstedshire was already beginning to creep back in.

Where’s Dream? His friend?

No, Tommy doesn’t need Dream.

Shaking his head clear of those thoughts, Tommy pushes the door open, standing aside so that the dog can walk past him. It barks gratefully, bounding down the stairs onto the snow-covered lawn below. He laughs at the sight, thrusting his hands into his pockets and following.

Tommy’s hand closes tightly around the compass. He clutches it, smiling sadly, but trying not to remember. He’s not ready to come to terms with it.

It’s then that the dog stops, staring curiously at something behind Tommy. The teen doesn’t care to investigate, shooting a smile at the creature and chuckling. 

He turns when his companion bares its teeth and begins to bark. He stumbles back. He can’t do this. Go away. Leave. Please.

Dream.

The man holds his arms out, beckoning. Tommy backs away. Huge, uneven breaths escape him, and his dog continues to stay by his side, snarling. 

He wants to give in. Wants to run, hug Dream - it seems safe. Dream is his only friend, after all.

“Aw, Tommy, why are you being like this? I haven’t seen you in weeks, and now you’re scared of me?” Dream cocks his head, his mask leaving all his expressions hidden.

“I’m… I… I’m sorry…”

“Sorry? Why? I’m not mad at you, I _promise_.” Dream’s tone is sickeningly sweet and patronising.

Tommy exhales at that, managing to loosen up just a little. It doesn’t do much to calm his nerves or stop his hands from shaking violently, nor stop the fearful tears threatening to spill.

“I’m really, really disappointed, though. Why did you leave me? I thought we were friends, Tommy.”

Those words feel like an arrow to the heart for him. Of course Dream would be upset, Tommy left him alone - he knows from personal experience that’s the worst thing he could’ve done.

“I’m s-sorry, Dream, I really a-am. I… I…” Tommy can’t supply an answer, his brain having entered full panic mode.

“And you’re staying with _Techno?_ I expected better. Didn’t I tell you that he only wants to use you and hurt you? I’m the only one you can trust.”

With shaky steps, Tommy makes his way over to Dream, collapsing into his arms with a sob. They have a familiar warmth to them, but they’re not comforting. It’s nothing compared to a rare Techno hug, or a tight embrace from Tubbo. But Tommy can’t help but melt into it, tears now flowing freely down his face and soaking the front of Dream’s hoodie.

“I’m s-s-sorry…” He chokes out.

“I know you are, I know you are.” Dream coos, “But sorry doesn’t cut it with me. We can go home, and forget about it, but not before I punish you. I’m not mad, I swear I’m not, but you’ve gotta be punished.” 

Tommy snaps to attention.

“Give me the compass. I know you have it.”

Techno knows something is up when he hears the first faint voice say that Tommy is in trouble. He’s just leaving the nether, about to return to the snowy forest, when they all start screaming at once.

HELP TOMMY.

TOMMY.

TOMMY IS IN TROUBLE.

UH OH.

DREAM.

DREAM HAS HIM.

TOMMY IS CRYING.

HELP HIM.

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD.

_KILL DREAM._

Techno breaks into a sprint, pickaxe at his side. He _refuses_ to let any harm come to Tommy.

The scene he stumbles upon is horrifying.

Dream, cradling Tommy in his arms. His enemy, holding _his_ little brother.

It makes Techno’s blood boil.

The compass that Tommy holds is in front of the pair (Techno has never understood why the boy clutches it so tightly yet so tenderly), and Tommy is crying. Dream is holding a lit match. There’s no time for a plan, Techno decides, and he makes his way over to them, with gritted teeth and clenched fists.

It would be reckless for Techno to rush in head on. But the voices are demanding blood, _Dream’s_ blood, and he feels obliged to give in to them.

“Fancy seein’ you here, Dream. What d’ya want with Tommy? Burnin’ his things and makin’ him cry ain’t exactly best friend behaviour.” He’s monotone, emotionless, but inside he craves blood.

“Technoblade! I was just… coming to collect Tommy. You know he’s exiled, right? He’s not supposed to have left that exile.” Dream stands up, pulling Tommy to his feet too with a harsh yank. Techno bites down on his tongue.

“We’ll be leaving now. Thanks for making this easy, Techno.”

“Tech…” Tommy whimpers, his panicked state leaving him unable to fight like he used to.

It was sad. Techno wants to see his brother live to fight another day.

“Nope, Tommy’s stayin’ here. Too cold over there for a kid. Besides, _someone’s_ gotta bully him mercilessly, and I’m not lettin’ you take that role now that Wilbur’s dead and I’m retired.”

“You can’t stop me. Come _on,_ Tommy.” Dream almost growls down at the boy, who flinches at the sound and tries to push away.

“I don’t bend to any laws, Dream. Ya can’t stop me. Ya know that all too well.” A distant memory of blood for the blood god and defeat for Dream flashes through both their minds.

Dream’s grip on Tommy loosens just enough for the boy to stumble away. He looks close to passing out, eyes wide from fear. Tommy immediately dives for the compass, and holds it protectively to his heart while taking his place behind his brother.

_His Tubbo._

“Leave my land, Dream. Leave Tommy. Leave us alone. I’ll put this pickaxe through ya teeth if ya don’t.”

Dream stays silent, before retreating with a sigh.

“I’ll be back. Don’t think you’re getting out of this, Tommy.” With that, he disappears into the trees surrounding the house.

As soon as he’s out of sight, Techno exhales, rushing to take Tommy into his arms. The teen cries and cries, stammering out apologies and never letting go of his compass.

Techno leads him inside once he’s calmed down. He gives him bread. Tommy eats. Things are calming down.

They talk. Techno asks the questions that have been left rotting in his mouth since day one. Tommy finally answers.

For the first time, Techno finds himself understanding the true extent of Tommy’s past. He learns about the exile, how Dream burnt his possessions with the promise of friendship of protection. Of the lonesome beach party. Of forgotten friends, of the room lined with pictures of people long gone, of explosions.

He learns about Tommy nearly giving up. His heart drops. But Tommy is still here, still fighting.

Techno promises his little brother the world, in that moment. He finds himself meaning every word. He’s determined to keep true to that promise.

For now, they’ll heal as brothers, in their Antarctic cabin, and Tommy will be happy.

And that will be enough for Techno.

**Author's Note:**

> ello this is my first mcyt fic and probs wont be my last if i keep hyperfixating lol
> 
> i like the sleepybois and the clingybois a lot and im sad i didnt get to include much of their dynamic in this but it is what it is and i can always write more :]
> 
> i hope u enjoyed! i dont write often anymore so any feedback is rly appreciated.
> 
> twit - @tmmyarg  
> ig - @kiritila  
> tumblr - @kiritila


End file.
